dale

I have a nine to five Monday to Friday job, live in an old unit in Penrith, my closest friends live at least an hour away, I’ve been recently broken up with, and separate to the burning oil smell, my car is making a huge squealing noise every time I turn it on, but I can’t drown it out because my radio doesn’t work either.

But still, somehow I feel free – freer than I’ve ever felt before in my whole life.

Until about five months ago I lived on the beautiful Gold Coast. I lived there for five years while I finished my degree (partied) and worked in a casual job (walked around in circles hungover – sorry Quiksilver, I love you). I was blessed enough to work among some of the most relaxed, funny and honest people. We would spend our weekend drinking beer then spend our week talking about it. We spoke about more than work, about how I wanted to be a journalist, and about how I would do whatever it took to get there one day. They were not only understanding, but did whatever they could to make me feel like I was moving forward, like I was getting somewhere.

But, as a year since graduation edged closer, I began to reassess where I was at. Casual retail job, yeah. Casual public relations job, yeah. Friends, yeah. Boyfriend, yeah. Sunny warm days, yeah. After five years on the Goldy, I looked to the future and I saw myself in the same position six months down the track.

I told my bosses I had to leave.

I gave them a date and told them I had to be unemployed to force myself to climb out of the warm, comfortable little hole I fell in. From there, I gave everyone else in my life notice that I was looking for work and that chances were it wasn’t going to be on the Gold Coast.

Not too long after, I received a response from a newspaper editor in Penrith asking me several important questions including: how would I make it down there if I were to get a job? Two weeks later, I had filled the apartment block’s skip bins with things that were too old and worn out for Vinnies, and squeezed the rest in my sedan.

I was Penrith bound. I was moving to Penrith by myself, into an apartment I’d never seen, was about to spend everyday with people I’d never met writing about a town I knew nothing about.

For months I lived by myself with a yoga mat as a lounge and a skateboard as a coffee table. I then gained a roommate, lost a boyfriend, and bought a fish.

I’ve had the most exciting highs, and some pretty lonely lows, but everything has happened the way it has because it was supposed to.

All these changes have changed me. I’m not the same person I was before, and I’ll ever know if that’s particularly a good thing or not. The only thing I do know from all of this is that I wouldn’t change any of it back.

Everyone needs a few big changes in their lives – something that flips everything upside down and turns your world on its head. No matter how much ‘on paper’ that it seemed like an interstate move to western Sydney by myself wasn’t a good idea (said my dad), it was one of the most liberating choices of my life.

I have a Monday to Friday nine to five job in Penrith, but I feel free.

At one point everything was shaken up. It was all floating around in the air and nothing seemed like it was in the place it needed to be in, and it wasn’t until it all landed and settled where it is now that it all became clear.

I am more comfortable than ever now and it’s all because I left my comfort zone.